


It's Death for Bonnie and Clyde

by katimoniusrex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bonnie & Clyde, Crime, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katimoniusrex/pseuds/katimoniusrex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall, Castiel is alone. And homeless. And, of course, broke. With Dean as his only connection, he is forced to find a new way to survive in a world he doesn't completely understand. Despite Dean's insistence to stay put and wait for him, Cas decides to take matters into his own hands. Bonnie and Clyde AU. Takes place after the fall of the angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Death for Bonnie and Clyde

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raicho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raicho/gifts).



He didn’t remember the fall.

He awoke in a field, disoriented and confused, just as his brothers and sisters began their descent. It was by the hundreds that the angels came to earth, fire scorching their wings. And each resounding boom, each burst of light in the distance, was a stab in the chest for Castiel. It hurt to see his family crash and burn as a result of his own misguided stupidity. If he had only _listened_...

Staring around the field, wheat blowing in a warm summer breeze, Cas realized he hadn't the faintest clue where he had landed. As an angel his sense of direction had been almost nonexistent; popping in and out did have its advantages, although it didn't do much for him as far as mortality was concerned. He tried to use his surroundings for an idea, but there was little to go off of; just wheat, trees, and sky. Although...the air hung with a sticky sort of heat, giving him a sense of the South. Maybe it was Oklahoma, he thought, or Kansas. Where Dean was from.

The thought of Dean sent another pain into his heart, concerning him slightly. Perhaps he had heart disease, or some kind of cancer. He wasn't sure how his vessel…no, his _body_ , would handle cancer. It would be interesting to find out. He wondered again about Dean, curious if he was still angry at him. Not that he _really_ had to wonder. He had forgotten to give Dean his pie before he went and ruined Heaven, _again_ , and hadn't been able to properly apologize. Again. Deciding that it was his best bet to find him, (even an angry Dean was better than no Dean at all) he started off across the field, walking for ten minutes until he found its edge - and virtually nothing else.

All he could see for miles was dirt road and more wheat; not a shop, a house or a person in sight. He barely paused at the edge of the field before he started off to the right, following the road for an agonizing five miles before he started to feel strange. A sort of…pulling towards the ground. His eyes drooped and he yawned, and rather than fighting the unusual sensation, he gave in to it. Stopping on the spot on the side of the road Cas laid down in a ball, his eyes shutting and carrying him off to sleep almost immediately.

* * *

It was several hours later that headlights and a scruffy southern voice woke Cas from his lovely nap, forcing him to open his eyes. A man stood over him, staring curiously at the stranger in a trenchcoat sleeping on the side of the road, large glasses tipping off the bridge of his even larger nose.

“You alright there, boy? What’chu doin’ on the side of the road, anyhow?” Cas stared up at the man’s face a minute longer before he stood up, brushing dust off of his trench coat.

“Yes, I’m alright. And I believe that I was sleeping.” The man laughed, standing up straight to look at Cas as close to in the eye as he could manage. He was at least a head shorter than Cas, shorter even than Dean.

“You sure were sleepin’. Dead to the world. But why right here when there’s an inn not two miles that way?” He pointed down the road, in the direction that Cas had been walking, making the angel’s eyes scrunch up in confusion.

“I didn't know there was anything here. I’m sorry if I concerned you.” He stuck his hands into the pocket of his trench coat, something he had never done _casually_ before, (he was clearly less stiff than usual) and felt something in the right pocket. He pulled out a crumpled business card, one for a pest control business, and on the other side found the address to Bobby’s old house, as well as one of Dean’s phone numbers.

It hadn't occurred to Cas that having Dean’s number may have come in handy, but apparently Dean had entertained the thought, and clearly long enough to decide that it was a necessity. Cas stared at the card intently, barely hearing the man still next to him ask, “So where you headed to, son?”

Cas looked up, blinking with confusion, the business card loose in his hand. He glanced at it once more before handing it over, pointing at the address on the back. “There.”

The older man took the card and squinted hard at the address, whistling as he looked up. “You got a ways to go. Sioux Falls is way up in South Dakota.” He handed the card back and Cas slipped it into his pocket, looking at the area around them.

“And where are we?”

The question raised the man’s eyebrow. Tourists didn't exactly frequent the area, and those that did usually knew the town name – or could at least read the sign on the way in from the highway. “Just outside of Channing, Texas. You sure you ain’t had a little too much to drink, buddy?”

The last time Cas had taken up the bottle, as they say, he had regretted it immensely. Not surprisingly an angel sized amount of alcohol equals one angel sized hangover. He had laid off the liquor since then, and couldn't help his dispassionate response to the man’s curiosity. “I’m quite sure, thank you. This inn, you say it’s in that direction?”

“That’s right. Two miles that-away, like I said. I’ll give you a lift, if you promise not to hurl on the mat.”

“That shouldn't be a problem.” Cas deadpanned, biting back several questionable remarks. The man wasn't unkind, per se, but certainly nosy. Flipping his car keys in one hand and extending the other, the stranger revealed a less than toothy grin that made the former angel fight to avoid scrunching his nose in distaste.

“The name’s Willie. Willie Jones.” Cas stared at the hand extended towards him, crooked and weak from what was surely years of farm work, and cautiously met it with his own. Human contact was still a mystery to him; a mystery he would have to solve in order to blend in. Moving his hand stiffly up and down, as he had been told to do on numerous occasions by both Dean and Sam, Cas felt a sense of pride creeping up on him. If the rest of the human race could survive the torments of social contact, so could he. “My name is Castiel.”

“Whelp, Castiel, let’s get a move on. Clearly you’re achin’ for a good night’s rest, and Jake’ll be able to set you up right.” Willie went back to his truck and climbed in the driver’s side, Castiel following to the passenger door. He had never gotten into a truck so large before, not without popping in, and so climbing up was a minor struggle. Luckily it hadn't been completely noticeable, with Willie buckling himself in and bringing the engine to life, so Cas was able to eventually plop himself into the worn leather seat and yank the door shut.

Willie started off, dust kicking up under the wheels. It was an interesting feeling for Castiel – fully planted on the seat, feeling the full force of each bump and the roar of the engine in his bones. A realization hit him without warning; he _liked_ it. He could see where Dean’s obsession with his car stemmed from, a thought that made his desire to see the shorter Winchester stronger.

They made it to the inn in a matter of minutes, Willie parking right outside of the door. “This is you.” Cas nodded and opened the door, slowly slipping out of the seat and back onto the soft dirt.

“Thank you for your help.” Willie nodded in goodbye, and called out merrily as Cas climbed the short set of stairs leading up to the inn, “Hopefully you remember all this in the morning!”

Cas could hear his laugh echo out into the night as he peeled out, continuing down the road in a cloud of dust until he was completely out of sight. Turning back, Cas climbed the last few stairs and pushed into the doors, revealing a quaint entryway that was decorated to call up the feeling of the outdoors. He approached the unmanned front desk, casting his eyes about for any employees. After several minutes of waiting he rang the bell sitting on the edge of the desk, hitting it rather forcefully several times before a younger man dragged himself through a nearby doorway, clearly unprepared for guests.

“Jake.” He murmured carelessly as he walked behind the desk, slowly picking up a clipboard and handing it over to Cas, who took it hesitantly. “Castiel,” he responded, although he wasn't sure it was what he was supposed to say. “A man named Willie told me th-“

Jake the innkeeper snorted, leaning over the desk. “Shoulda known. Always picks the low life’s off the street and sends’em straight to me. No ‘ffense.”

Cas wasn't sure how to respond, so he didn’t. He did, however, have a question. “Do you have a phone? I…I have to contact a friend.”

Jake picked up a black wired telephone and put it in front of Cas, and almost immediately turned to walk away. “30 cents a minute on long distance calls.” Then he was gone, having disappeared into the back once again.

Unsure of what long distance entailed, Cas’s hand hovered over the phone. He had no money, and no means of accessing any. His only hope was that Dean would be close enough to get him; assuming he wasn't still furious with him, of course. Deciding it was just about his only option, he picked up the phone and pulled the business card back out before slowly punching in the numbers. Then he waited, ring after ring, until a familiar crackling told him that the phone had been answered.

“Yeah, this is Dean.” For a long second Cas said nothing, unsure if he should respond at all. Dean was his only contact outside of Sam, but he had no interest in answering the questions he would surely be asked, or in getting scolded for acting impulsively. He could hear Dean switching the phone from one hand to the other. “Hello? Who is this?”

He hesitated only another moment before resolve set in, and then cautiously answered,

“Hello Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt I received from the lovely Raicho, who surely had something else in mind when she told me to do Bonnie and Clyde, who I adore. I don't really do straight-forward though, so you get this instead! A modern day Bonnie and Clyde. Who is Bonnie? Who is Clyde? You'll have to stay tuned to find out! ; O
> 
> I would love it if you took the time to review! Any comments, criticisms or critiques will genuinely make my day. Much love!


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